Backup
by NeverMineToHold
Summary: A cliff, confidence issues, a weapon and prep talk... Mix that together to get a nice dose of Rodimus and Kup friendship. No real Warnings for this one.


Title: **„Backup"**

Status: **Complete**

Fandom: Transformers; G1

Characters: Kup; Rodimus Prime

Word Count: **1249**

Disclaimer: I would love to own Transformers, but that honor belongs to Hasbro alone. Shame!

Rating: **T**

Warning/AN: I don't know if it's worth a warning, but I am German and this is my first attempt at an English fanfiction... So, please, **don't** be gentle and point out every mistake you can find LOL

I am new to the Transformers fandom as well; I only know the Bay Movies and the old one (still the best!) from '86. Even back then I had a certain radar, cause I fell in love with both Kup and Hot Rod immediately LOL

I did a little googling to gather infos for this fic and was totally dumbfounded that Hot Rod has, as Rodimus, some confidence issues... But then I thought: Cool! What has Kup to say to that – and how would he go about it? So this fic was born...

I hope you will enjoy reading this; please R&R! Constructive criticism is most welcome! Flames will feed my barbecue fire – what else?

Kup found him – _yet_ _again_ – on the cliff.

As far as a 'bots optics could see, a desolate Cybertronian wasteland stretched out, till it fused with the horizon. Rodimus' bright coloring stood out against the dirty yellow and gray of sand and debris.

He was pacing back and forth, with the nervous energy and desperation of a caged animal.

A wild thing trapped – by duty. The heaviest burden of all... Indeed.

Kup's sensors picked up the ozone-like residue of a discharged blaster; diluted by one part per million, to him it was still a strong scent on the wind.

Some smoking craters and a silver puddle of molten steel down below stood silent testament to the violence the young Autobot leader had unleashed on the environment.

Kup decided that the best course of action was to wait for Rodimus to acknowledge his presence, rather than starting a conversation. – Or worse, a tirade; deserved or not.

He waited in silence, a safe distance away, watching the sand drift over the sorry remains of a once beautiful city.

Kup had many stories... no, _educational experiences_ to share, but this tragedy would never be among them. Maybe it was a good thing that Rodimus was by far too young to know what ghost's haunted the place he sought solace at...

The sunlight glared unforgivingly on the metallic beams and empty shells of once tall buildings, which poked from the shifting and growing dunes. Automatically a filter went online to shield Kup's optics.

Back in HQ the delegates from Sirius IV must be by now in an uproar... Not to mention poor Ultra Magnus who was left to deal with the fallout... Well, Kup had currently more important problems to deal with.

One being a young Prime with confidence issues, because of shoes too big for anyone to fit; courtesy of Optimus.

Not to mention that the young lad's patience with his silent watcher ran out right this moment. – Rodimus whirled around and started ranting. Big time.

Kup wasn't impressed by the display, not even when Rodimus came within an inch of charging his weapon; aiming shakily at point blank.

Kup trusted the lad to snap out of it before Rodimus did something monumentally stupid. – And he had enough confidence in his own skills as a soldier to avoid fatal damage to his vital components. And he certainly would have no qualms to put his leader in his place with a nice kick to the aft, should it become necessary.

As expected reality kicked in soon enough and Rodimus turned away.

The motion was so abrupt that his gears must have whined in protest. – Which Kup could only imagine because his audio sensor was only _now_ going back online.

Pity he knew _exactly_ what had been thrown straight at his helm, because this was far from being Rodimus' first outburst.

Stoicism went far, - sometimes. But patience always won.

Eventually.

Rodimus' doorwings drooped heavily; a dead give away to his chagrin. "I am sorry, Kup."

He didn't sound subdued so much as mortified with his actions – and as if he was only astroseconds short from panic...

Kup vented a sparkfelt sigh, full with expertly hidden, fond exasperation: "I was often frustrated with you, like I am now, lad. But I was never outright mad or disappointed, and I doubt I will ever be. Nothing you could do or say would make me turn away from you."

Rodimus closed the short distance between them, looking dumbfounded by the non sequitur. His bright blue optics flickered; flung out of his just started guilt trip funk as he was. "Uh – where did that come from?"

Kup shrugged; metal scraping audibly in his still stiff shoulder joint. "Just something you looked in need to hear, lad."

Before Rodimus could even open his mouth in protest, Kup continued: "And now try lying with a straight faceplate and tell me you didn't."

Rodimus answered without the slightest hesitation: "But I did."

His voice was soft but heavy with something Kup chose to ignore, if only to spare the kid the embarrassment, which already hung suspended in the air between them.

"Good. Then straighten up, kid. We have a situation to tackle and running isn't an option."

Rodimus blinked, ignoring the mild rebuke in favor for – "We?"

Kup vented again; heavily. Some 'bots already suspected that he was developing a nervous glitch due to his age. – Others were smart enough to notice _when_ and with _whom_ it happened.

"Well, if you're pit-bent on comparing yourself with Optimus, you might as well do it right. A certain someone always had the big guys back; remember?"

Smoking craters and pulled weapons were forgotten by now, washed away by confusion, which stumped Rodimus processor. What was it with Kup and his round about statements nowadays? He _had_ to do it on purpose...

"You mean... Ironhide?"

Kup nodded and started back to the makeshift road; clapping Rodimus on the shoulder in passing. "Sure, lad. It could be far worse than me as your backup."

And mentor, Rodimus thought fondly. "Far worse; maybe. But not better."

And he meant it.

Since their first meeting in Autobot City, back on Earth, when he was still Hot Rod and a carefree youngling, that had been and would always be Kup's position in Rodimus' life.

It was a fact that could sometimes annoy him to no end, like when Kup told his fabricated – they just _had_ to be! – war stories for the thousandth time. Or when he scolded him for being a 'motor-revving young punk.'

But more important, by far, was that he _still_ told his stories, _still_ scolded him. Kup was the only one who didn't treat him any differently after the Matrix had chosen him as Prime. He understood that he was still Hot Rod inside.

That he needed help, advice, someone to rant at, who knew when to pressure and when to leave him alone; who allowed him some time to actually _process_ all the changes in his life. In short: Backup.

And maybe that was what Ironhide had been for Optimus. It seemed far fetched to Rodimus, but perhaps it had been the same for the most renown of the Autobots, in the beginning.

... although he suspected that with _him_ it had been more of an... internal struggle, rather than making a spectacle of himself, like Rodimus did.

Whoops.

Kup reached even ground and transformed into his pickup alt-mode. He flashed his highbeams in slight annoyance: "Humph. Flattering around my circuits won't work, lad. – Wanna race back?"

Rodimus couldn't help but laugh at the sound and sight of a revving motor and spinning tires.

His anger and self-doubt still hovered at the edge of his spark, but for now... was the offered race back to HQ exactly what he needed.

Maybe Kup could help him later to sort out this huge mess he was stuck in,- Prime-sized. Dignity of a leader be damned!

Rodimus transformed and drove off at maximum speed, leaving the smaller vehicle to swallow his dust cloud. "Let's roll out, old-timer!"

"Humph. Don't forget the diplomatic damage control, lad," cautioned Kup dryly – and followed, intent on using all the tricks his long existence had taught him. _No way_ would he let that young punk win without offering a tough challenge.

And then, later, he would make good of his long standing promise and straighten him out. That would be just what the kid – their _Prime_ – needed.

Potential or not.

End

AN: R&R please and tell me that my English totally sucks – or not ^-^

3


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